Spells of the Past
by Entropy284
Summary: Lydia has returned to the Neitherworld after six long years away from her best friend. Unfortunately, Beetlejuice is not the only one pleased by her return. An ancient evil has awakened and Lydia holds the key to its desires. The eccentric pair will embark on their greatest adventure yet to save two worlds and each other. Rated T for now - may become M in the future.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_**1385**_

The witch was aching with weariness as she trudged down the worn path to her home. Despite all her efforts the plague had claimed two more lives that night. Their village had originally housed 112 souls, but within a month they were down to 103. If the disease continued at this rate, their village would cease to exist within the year. As the village healer, they were looking to her for answers, but she didn't have any to give. She was easing the suffering of her patients, but she had yet to find a cure. So far, she had found no connections between the infected to reveal how the disease was spreading. She felt a profound sense of inadequacy at her lack of progress. Although it was late, and she had house calls to make the following morning, she would take an hour before sleep to review her notes and spells again.

Her footsteps echoed in the night and she gradually became aware of the complete stillness and silence surrounding her. No breezes stirred the leaves of the trees. The crickets and frogs were no longer chirping in wild symphony. An overwhelming sense of apprehension swept over her. She stopped walking and stared at her surroundings in the glow of her torch. Shifting her satchel and taking her torch in her opposite hand, she unsheathed the dagger at her hip. There was definitely something out there. Casting a quick spell of protection over herself she hesitated on the path. She could head back and request that one of the men accompany her. Frowning she thought of who had been in attendance at the death bed rites. It wasn't a long walk back but they would all have left by the time she arrived. She listened intently, but there was still nothing but silence. Clutching her dagger firmly, she made her decision and cautiously continued her trek toward home.

Her cottage came into view as she navigated the last bend in the path and she staggered at the sight before her. Tendrils of black smoke were creeping around the edges of her door and in places around her low thatched roof. Inside her home, a strange green glow illuminated her window panes. The door to her stable was hanging off the hinges and her mare was missing. As she stood there considering her options, she could hear faint whispers that seemed to ride the night air. She listened intently, attempting to discern any meaning, but the sound was barely audible. The thickness of the air made the dark magic emanating from her home almost tangible. If she turned back now and requested assistance the villagers would lose their trust in her. They would most likely assume that this was the source of the plague no matter what lay inside. On the other hand, it was dangerous to confront dark magic unassisted and exhausted. Suddenly, a sharp cry rang out from inside the house and she could no longer remain immobile. Squaring her shoulders she approached the front door and shoved it open.

The inside of the cottage was chaos. A thick black fog more than a foot deep covered the floor. Its black smoky tendrils were curling up over her furniture and the walls. Books were scattered everywhere, their torn pages layered over her table top and desk. Every cabinet and chest was open with their contents spilling out. As she stepped further into her home broken glass crunched under her feet. Anxiously, she made her way toward the broken sobs and gasps coming from the kitchen. Her heart clutched as she took in the scene that greeted her there.

Her furniture had all been shoved aside and a large alchemic circle was drawn in the center of the floor. At its center was a man, the source of the eerie green glow. Wearing only thick linen trousers his bare arms showed the beginning of plague lesions. Long pale hair hung in damp clumps that blocked his face from view. Blood was flowing freely from his wrists into the center of the circle. Rather than pooling there, the blood was spreading out across the lines of the alchemic drawing. The strange whispers were loudest here, but she still couldn't grasp the meaning of the words. The man's shoulders heaved as he chanted in Latin. Slowly he raised his head to glare at her. Recognizing the man before her she gasped and retreated from the room.

Stumbling over the scattered belongings in her front room she dropped her torch which promptly extinguished. Ignoring the torch, she dropped her satchel onto the nearby table. Digging inside she removed a small vial of clear liquid. Pocketing the vial, she ran out the front door and into the stable. Inside she grabbed a bucket and headed back out to the side of her house. She dipped the bucket into the rain barrel there and set it carefully on the ground. As the ground began to tremble she dumped the contents of the vial into the bucket. With a few quick words, and a prayer to the goddess, she walked carefully back inside with her bucket of holy water.

The ground tremors increased in intensity as she entered her home. As she approached the kitchen the green light was almost blinding. The man in the center of the circle was cackling maniacally as the dark black smoke was drawing back to him. It poured into his mouth, his eyes, his ears, and his nose. The lesions were gone from his arms but blood still flowed freely from the wounds at his wrists. She did a quick survey of the room and saw that there was no circle of protection. Striding forward, she threw the bucket of water across the circle drawn on the floor. The second the water broke the first line of the circle the man emitted an ear splitting howl and collapsed to the floor.

He continued to howl and writhe as the glow subsided and the black smoke faded away. The ground tremors had stopped completely. The witch leaned heavily against the doorway shaking at the horror before her. Slowly the thickness surrounding her home subsided and the whispers in the air silenced. The man ceased his howling and whimpered from his place on the floor. Slowly the witch crossed the distance between them and knelt down before him. He looked up at her, his eyes still glowing with a green light. She sighed deeply. She had been too late. The possession wasn't complete, but it was enough to cost him his soul. He reached out and grabbed her wrist.

"Please save me," he begged her.

Save him from what? she wondered. Did he want her to save him from the plague? The plague no longer mattered. He had lost too much blood and the spell was never completed. He would die of his wounds before morning. Did he want her to save his soul? The soul he had so foolishly bartered. He released her wrist and curled in on himself, whimpering once again. She sighed and stood up. At least his foolishness had allowed her to enter the house and his circle uninhibited. She didn't want to consider what might have happened otherwise. The whimpering ceased as the man slipped into unconsciousness.

Clenching her fists, the witch walked purposefully from the room. She shook her head and cursed under her breath at the man's stupidity. Damn him and his impetuous behavior! She would need to act quickly to save his soul. She searched through the open cabinets and the contents on her floor. With only a few cursory glances she retrieved dragon's blood, frankincense, and four black candles. Placing the items down on her altar she summoned a large black stone that appeared at its center. Returning to the kitchen she looked down at the man on her floor. Bending down she collected a small vial of his blood and returned to her altar. She set the vial down to the right of the stone. Striking a match she lit each candle in turn, murmuring her thanks to the elements and the goddess. Keeping the image on the man firmly in her mind she began to chant:

"With the thread of the crimes of your own design

I bind your evil

Three times seven times.

I bind you from Behind

I bind you from Before

That you'll hurt from this deed nevermore.

I bind you from the Left

I bind you from the Right

I bind you by Day and I bind you by Night.

I bind you from Below

I bind you from Above

That you may ever know the laws of Life and Love.

I bind you with your own good conscience within

And so let this magic unfold and spin."

As she looked through the swirl of smoke wafting up from the candles she hesitated for a moment. Would this binding be enough or would it make matters worse? Unfortunately, there was no time for doubt or alternative solutions. He might have already inhaled his last breath. She shook off her errant thoughts and used her ceremonial dagger to carve his name into the stone's face. Holding out her right hand, she slipped a ring from her finger and placed it on top of the stone. With a deep breath she continued the spell:

"Goddess of darkest night

Send our troubles all to flight

Burn them in thy sacred fires

And replace them with our hearts desires!"

Plunging her dagger through the ring and into the stone, the spell was now complete. She looked down at the inscription as she finally released the tears that had been building within her:

BEETLEJUICE


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the prologue! Its very encouraging and I hope you all love what I have in store. This is my first fanfic ever and I don't have an editor so all constructive criticism is appreciated. **

**Disclaimer: The characters are from the Beetlejuice TV series and are the property of Nelvana, The Geffen Film Company, Tim Burton Incorporated, and Warner Bros. Television. The story is my own and intended for entertainment purposes only.**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**Present**

Lydia Deetz looked up at her childhood home as she parked her car in the driveway. The strange house dominated the view on the small hilltop. It was a fanciful Victorian revival that reflected her mother's unique style and flair for the dramatic. Her gaze lingered on the third floor balcony of the turret that housed her bedroom. It suited her tastes far more than her current unremarkable studio apartment. Not for the first time, she wished that she was able to spend more time here.

Shrugging off that fruitless thought, Lydia smiled as she considered what brought her home. She would have to rein in for her parent's sake, but she was extremely excited about her return. The house would be all hers for a month and that suited her motives perfectly.

Lydia stepped from the car and walked hurriedly up the porch steps. As she approached the front door, she caught sight of her reflection in the glass. She definitely looked way too amped. Her hazel eyes seemed brighter and larger than usual. Rogue hairs had escaped her long black braid and were curling outward adding a slightly manic note to her looks. She attempted to pat the errant curls in place and tucked a few strands behind her ears. Taking another moment, she tried to settle her expression into one of polite aloofness before ringing the doorbell. The door was answered almost immediately by her father. He gave her a quick hug and stepped back taking in her appearance.

"Hey pumpkin, is everything ok? You look a little sick," Charles Deetz said as he stared at her curiously.

Lydia couldn't help but laugh. After three years mingling with artists she still failed at 'polite and aloof'. It didn't really matter though because her father already thought she was one can short of a six pack.

"I'm fine, just worn out from the drive up. Are you guys all packed for your trip?" she asked.

"Yup, our luggage is already in the car. We were just waiting for you before we left. Are you sure about this sweetheart? We can hire a service to watch the house while we're away. Your mother and I are worried about you being in the house alone," he said anxiously.

Lydia rolled her eyes. "As we've already discussed, you and mother have nothing to worry about. I'm a big girl. After all these years, are you still not going to trust me?" she accused. With everything that had happened between her and her parents, it still astonished her that they just couldn't trust her.

"Of course we trust you! I have no idea what you're talking about. We just didn't want to burden you if you had other plans," He said evasively. He shifted from foot to foot not looking directly at her for a moment.

Lydia knew he hated discussing the past. She wondered briefly if the airline would charge her parents extra for their emotional baggage. "I just finished my show at the gallery and I have nothing lined up for the next few weeks. Really, this will be like a vacation for me," she offered. Lydia didn't want to make her father upset before his trip. Bringing up the past could damage the progress she had made toward repairing her relationship with him and sabotage her plans.

From the kitchen, Lydia heard her mother's heels clicking rapidly across the tiled floor and she flinched involuntarily. "Lydia!" Delia cried as she flounced into the room. She threw her arms around her daughter and kissed her loudly on the cheek.

"Darling, surely you don't want to stay here all by yourself," her mother said pointedly. "Couldn't you have brought Nathan with you?" she asked.

Lydia sighed. She was _not_ having this conversation again. "I told you we broke up a few months ago mother. Really, the both of you need to relax. Go enjoy your vacation and stop worrying about me. I'm 23 and I've been living by myself for a while now. I'm pretty certain I can handle being here for just one month," Lydia said trying not to let her annoyance show.

Her parents stared at her considering. Her father, as usual, was the first to cave. "Ok if you're sure. There's a copy of our itinerary on the counter and all our contact information is on the fridge. Call us if you need anything at all. We love you, pumpkin." With that her father kissed the top Lydia's head and proceeded out towards the car.

"There's a nice young man that's renting the Robinson's apartment down the street. I hear he's studying law at Yale," Delia said smiling hopefully.

"Really? Maybe we'll bump into each other," Lydia said while secretly hoping for the exact opposite. She sent out a silent prayer that her mother had not mentioned her to this man at all. Thankfully, her statement seemed to appease her mother who beamed happily at her.

"Well I shouldn't keep your father waiting. Ta my darling," Delia said. She placed her hands on her daughter's shoulders and kissed one cheek and then the other in an exaggerated motion. "Just like the French!" she exclaimed as she walked past her daughter and out of the front door.

Lydia followed her out and waved to her parents as their car pulled out of the drive. Grabbing a cigarette from her purse, she walked down the front steps and turned to look up at the big house, her fingers suddenly itching for her camera. She took a drag as she pictured the scene and how she would frame the moment. She would capture her large excited eyes through the swirl of smoke and the grand house reflected in them. "Return to the Asylum" she would call it. She smirked at the idea.

She strolled around the house and came to a beautiful flower garden her father had been grooming. It was a small oasis with a wandering stone path that led around a small pond. At the center of the garden the path opened up and a comfy looking lawn chair invited anyone passing through to stay awhile. Dropping into it, Lydia took a lazy drag on her cigarette. Being here was always such an emotional rollercoaster. It made her happy, sad, needy, and angry all at once. Closing her eyes, Lydia gave into the tumult for a moment and let her mind wander into the past.

* * *

It was a Saturday afternoon, two weeks after her fourteenth birthday, and Lydia was feeling bored. Summers in Peaceful Pines Connecticut were a sea of mind-numbing tedium compared to the hot daily grind of summers in New York. With nothing else to occupy her time she grabbed her Nikon and told her parents that she was going for a short ride to take some pictures. Her father had waved her off distractedly, which she interpreted as permission. She strode out of the house, hopped on her bike, and headed down the road to the small local cemetery. Before she realized it, it was twilight. She dutifully loaded another roll of film into her camera and started snapping more shots. She loved the way the long shadows embellished the hard lines of the head stones.

While she was photographing a large beetle at the base of a head stone something had shimmered at the edge of her vision. Looking up, her attention was drawn to a strange mausoleum that she hadn't previously noticed. Set back amongst the trees, it was a circular gothic structure standing about twenty feet tall. She took a minute to walk curiously around its perimeter, wondering why she hadn't detected the imposing structure for the past hour. The stone was blackened with age and crumbling in many places. Sections of the domed roof had weeds jutting out of cracks, adding to the appearance of neglect and age. Above the door an unusual crest depicted a strange wolf with a lopsided grin. She examined the doors which were carved from ebony. Each door had two missing panels where wrought iron filigree allowed visitors to peer inside. Unfortunately, without a flashlight Lydia couldn't make anything out through the tiny spaces between the bars.

Moving back from the doors Lydia heard a small metallic clink as something fell at her feet. She crouched down and discovered a small ring. The band appeared to be silver and expanded to a circular setting in which there were three inlaid onyx stones. A tiny scroll pattern accentuated the edges of the setting. She turned the ring over and discovered an inscription on the inside of the ring: Beetlejuice. Lydia snorted. It was such a bizarre form of endearment. She had to fight a fit of giggles at the thought of anyone lovingly crooning for their sweet "beetlejuice". While she was laughing a sudden gust of wind whirled through the cemetery. Her hair whipped her face and a shiver travelled down her spine. Suddenly anxious and realizing how late it was getting, Lydia slipped the ring onto her finger and left the cemetery for home.

Lydia's late arrival went unnoticed by her parents so she headed downstairs to her darkroom. She had filled two rolls of film at the cemetery and couldn't wait to start processing the pictures. Darkroom work was one of Lydia's favorite aspects of her photography. She would completely devote herself to each task, carefully tending to the needs of her photographs. She pulled out a film roll, placed it on the spool, and began the enjoyable process of bringing her art to life. A few hours later she emerged and headed up to her room leaving her pictures to dry.

When she returned to her dark room the next morning to check on the photographs her first shot of the mausoleum drew her attention. It was so wonderfully gothic and sinister. She grabbed her loupe to carefully examine the photo. At first glance the photo was unremarkable, but when she looked at the east wall there were strange words carved into it. Her stomach clenched and goosebumps broke out over her arms as she read the message. She _knew_ those words had not been there when she had taken the photograph.

Despite the implication of the words themselves, Lydia assumed that she must have made an error in the development process. She ignored the words for a moment and considered. Although she was incredibly meticulous, it was possible that she was looking at an imprint from another negative. Flustered, she began searching through the negatives for an answer. However, as she searched, it became increasingly apparent that the words did not belong to any of the other head stones she had photographed. Gathering the pictures and her loupe, she headed up to her bedroom to study the enigma further.

Lydia closed her door and flopped onto her four poster bed. Outside the eerie red glow of her darkroom, the photo seemed less menacing. She pulled the onyx ring she had been wearing from her finger and compared the inscription in the ring to the lettering on the mausoleum. It seemed to be identical. It was also telling that the word "Beetlejuice" was also included in the message on the mausoleum. She slipped the ring back on and frowned down at the photograph. Unaware that she was about to change the shape of her life forever, she read aloud the words inscribed on the mausoleum:

"Though I know I should be wary,

Still I venture someplace scary.

Ghostly Haunting I turn loose,

Beetlejuice,

Beetlejuice,

Beetlejuice."

A gale force wind whipped around her bedroom and a maniacal cackling echoed in the air. "Iiiiiiit's showtime!" a gravelly voiced boomed. Lydia scrambled backwards on her bed pressing herself against her headboard. In mere seconds her room had filled with an unearthly fog so thick that she couldn't see her balcony or bedroom doors anymore through it. There was a sound like a crack of lightning and a burst of green light exploded in the center of her room. A man with glowing green eyes appeared in mid air at the center of light. He was cackling and grinning at her, baring his filthy looking teeth. He began descending and as his feet hit the floor the wind, fog, and light immediately disappeared. His eyes had stopped glowing but were still a captivating jade green.

"Well what do you think? Two thumbs up?" He asked her. As he said this there was a loud pop and he immediately transformed into two large thumbs. With another pop he became the grinning man again and started to casually wander around her room inspecting her things. He was dressed in a weathered looking suit that had thick black and white stripes. His dark maroon shirt was open at the collar and a loosened black tie draped over his chest. Overall he suddenly seemed rather harmless despite his menacing entrance.

Lydia was silent for a moment longer as she studied him before asking the million dollar question. "Um who are you?" she asked tentatively.

"Me? I'm the Ghost with the Most, babes!" He said turning around and grinning at her again. He ran a hand through his blond hair which was set back on his high forehead and flowed shaggily down to his shoulders.

Lydia smirked. "The most what?" she asked.

"The most everything! Seriously babes, I'm the tops," he added simultaneously turning into a spinning top.

"You might not have heard but I'm the one who put the smile on the Mona Lisa," he proclaimed as he became the famous portrait complete with striped outfit. He winked slyly at her.

Lydia laughed at the outrageous display.

"What's your name kid?" he asked her as he became himself again.

"I'm Lydia, but you know you still haven't given me your name yet," she said as she eased herself off her bed and crossed her room to stand in front of him. Standing closer she was able to smell a strange earthy aroma emanating from him.

"I can't say it, but you have to know it. Saying my name three times is what got me to appear here," he stated glancing down at her. He wasn't extremely tall but Lydia was atleast a foot shorter than him.

"Beetlejuice? Your name is Beetlejuice?" Lydia asked incredulously. Beetlejuice instantly appeared behind her and clamped his hand over her mouth.

He leaned down. "Cool it with the B word! If you say it one more time I'll be sent back," he warned her before popping back in front of her again.

Lydia shivered from the cool sensation of his hand on her face. "Sent back to where?" Lydia wondered.

"Hmm. I could show it to you if you want. I mean seeing is believing and all that crap. Somehow I think you'd get a kick out of the place," he said glancing meaningfully at some of her art work.

She followed his eyes and couldn't help but smile. There was no denying that she had an obsession with the gruesome and macabre. She wasn't sure that going anywhere with this outrageous spectre was the best idea though.

As if reading her mind Beetlejuice leaned in close and said "You're not scared are you? I mean I can hold your hand if you need me to." He waggled his eyebrows at her as he extended his hand. Several beetles scuttled out of his palm and ran up his sleeve.

She considered his offer for a moment, unperturbed by the beetles. "Ok let's go. I think I'll pass on that hand though since you obviously have something up your sleeve," she joked.

Beetlejuice snorted. "I almost always do," he replied.

* * *

Lydia finished her cigarette, but continued to lay with her eyes closed. After she had met Beetlejuice she had experienced three amazing years of adventure and laughter. He had become her best friend and greatest advocate. They had spent almost all of their free time together, either in the real world or in the Neitherworld: a ghostly realm of monsters and undead. Although he would probably gag at the thought, he had made her life magical.

All of that had come to a grinding halt when she had made the biggest mistake of her life. She had told her parents the truth.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Lydia could remember the night she told her parents about Beetlejuice with incredible clarity. It was one of her defining moments. The events of that night were a pebble thrown into the pool of her life, and the ripples had become a tsunami.

* * *

Absolutely exhausted, Lydia slowly trudged home. Spending the night chasing Beetlejuice around Peaceful Pines was not what she had planned for her evening. He was supposed to help her out by crashing her neighbor's party. Somehow money had gotten involved and that's when she lost control of the entire situation. In typical BJ fashion, his words had split himself into two personalities. His good side had been good for nothing, and his bad side had wreaked havoc. Thankfully, he had pulled himself together. After he finished cleaning up the mess, Lydia had returned him to the Neitherworld. She wondered how at seventeen she was infinitely more mature than a six hundred year old ghost. "Ghost with the most indeed," she scoffed.

Arriving at her house, Lydia eased the front door open and slowly crept inside, shutting the door gently behind her. She had only gone a few steps into the living room when the lights suddenly flipped on. Frozen like a deer in headlights, Lydia stared blankly at her parents who were sitting on the couch.

"Young lady, sit. Right now," her father ordered.

Slowly, Lydia made her way to the chair opposite her parents and lowered herself into it. Ambushing her was definitely a new tactic for them. The looks on their faces made it very clear that she would not be getting out of this one easily. Staring down at her hands, Lydia braced for impact.

"Your mother and I will not tolerate this behavior anymore," her father said authoritatively.

"I'm sorry Dad, really sorry, but I swear this wasn't my fault. My friend was …" Lydia didn't get any further before her father interrupted her.

"I'm tired of your excuses Lydia. It always seems to be someone else's fault with you. You never take responsibility for your actions anymore. We got a call from the MAYOR tonight, the MAYOR!" her father yelled pacing furiously in front of Lydia's chair.

Lydia inconspicuously searched the room to see if Beetlejuice was listening in. If he was, he owed it to her to get her out of this mess. Unfortunately, she didn't see him anywhere obvious. After using so much of his power, he must have been sleeping the night off.

"Charles, don't forget all the pranks she's been pulling on us lately," her mother added angrily. "Just yesterday her juvenile antics destroyed that wonderful sculpture I was working on!"

Her parents rapidly fired off more accusations about her delinquent behavior. With each indictment she became more and more angry. This just wasn't fair. She hadn't done any of the things they were blaming her for. Beetlejuice had obviously been in rare form the past few months. Ignoring her parents, she thought of everything she would say when she saw him tomorrow. Somehow he would have to get her parents off her back, and this time she expected a real apology from him.

"From now on you will come straight home after school. You are grounded until you learn that you can't just do whatever you please. We are also taking away your camera and you have no darkroom privileges for two months," Charles finished.

That last part finally got through to Lydia. "You can't be serious! Why are you taking away my camera, what does that have to do with anything," she cried.

"Yes, I'm serious. Lydia we haven't been able to get through to you any other way. If this is what it takes to get you to grow up, then so be it," her father said with a rare edge of finality to his voice.

"You can't do this!" Lydia yelled no longer able to contain her frustration.

"We can and we will. You sneak out at night. You sneak out during the day. You have caused damage to our things. You …"

"It's not me, it's Beetlejuice!" Lydia screamed.

The outburst silenced her parents only for a moment before Delia asked incredulously "Betty Juice, your sweet friend from the Happy Face Girls?"

Overwhelmed, Lydia was unable to accept her parents constant denial of what was right in front of their faces. Over the past three years they had spent time with Beetlejuice as Betty, Mr. Beetleman, cousin BJ, Denmother Macree, and various other incarnations. They had once spent their entire summer vacation in the Neitherworld. That wasn't even including all their other visits where they had somehow remained blissfully unaware of the supernatural nature of their surroundings. Her parents had to know deep down that something mysterious was happening right under their roof and she wasn't going to be punished for it.

"No Mom, I mean Beetlejuice! Although yes, I suppose you know him as Betty, cousin BJ too, or Mr. Beetleman even. Really, did neither of you notice how similar all of their names were? Not to mention their appearance?" Lydia asked. Now that she was saying it all out loud, it really was astonishing that her parents hadn't made these connections. Her parents didn't answer her. They stared at her in stunned silence seemingly at a loss for words. She foolishly proceeded to explain.

"I found this ring three years ago and it connects me to him and the place he lives: the Neitherworld. You've both been there! Do you remember our vacation last year where Dad was constantly scared out of his mind? Didn't you guys think it was weird that you both had no idea where in the world we were?"

Lydia couldn't seem to stop herself now that it was all coming out.

"Mom you have to remember our trip to GrislyLand with Denmother Macree? Once again that was BJ and GrislyLand was in the Neitherworld. I mean have you talked to anyone about that trip? Have you ever even heard of GrislyLand outside of our trip there?" Her mother opened her mouth as if to answer, but then promptly shut it. Her father was oddly expressionless.

"The truth is that BJ is my best friend," Lydia continued. "I know you both love all the versions of him you've met. Sometimes he just gets himself into these crazy situations and that's what happened tonight. He would never let me get into any real trouble though. He's saved your lives dozens of times," she finished running out of steam as the gravity of what she was saying started to hit her.

Her parents continued to remain silent, and Lydia was becoming increasingly uncomfortable as they stared at her.

"Dad, I know you usually blame it on stress or your diet, but have you never questioned how inanimate objects talk to you or take on a life of their own?" Lydia asked gently.

"Lydia that's enough," Charles said rubbing his hands over his face. Her mother was shaking her head in silent denial.

"Obviously you are still not getting it Lydia. We aren't going to listen to anymore of your excuses. Although I must admit, I never thought you would take it this far," Charles said looking profoundly disappointed.

"That's not it Dad. I can prove this to you Bee…" Lydia started.

"I said ENOUGH!" Charles yelled. "We've listened to enough of this! I don't want to hear another word from you. Go to your room and we'll talk in the morning. I strongly suggest you think about your actions and how they are hurting everyone around you."

Lydia had opened her mouth to continue calling Beetlejuice when her father's last sentence penetrated her anger. She looked at her parents and reflected on whether what her father said was true. Were her actions truly hurting them she wondered. Calling Beetlejuice might prove her right, but at what price. Her parent's denial was simply too ingrained and BJ might be hurt in the process too. Lifting herself dejectedly from her chair she appealed to her parents one last time.

"Dad…" she started.

"Lydia I'm done. I'm just done," he said wearily, turning from his daughter and rejoining Delia on the couch.

Lydia left the living room and climbed the stairs to her room with a growing dread in the pit of her stomach. Closing her door she crossed to her dresser and stared sadly into the mirror resting on it. She wondered how she would explain to Beetlejuice what she had done and if she should summon him right now. Sighing, she figured it probably wouldn't matter because her parents clearly hadn't believed a word she said. Now that her temper had waned she knew that it was probably best for them to remain ignorant. She couldn't believe that she had blurted out the truth, but she had been livid. Beetlejuice would be able to fix this all somehow. She wasn't sure how, but he owed it to her to come up with something. She knew she wouldn't be able to forget the disappointed look on her father's face any time soon. Succumbing to exhaustion, and leaving her conversation with Beetlejuice for the next day, Lydia slipped into her pajamas and crawled into bed.

Lydia woke late the next morning and lingered in bed. After last night she didn't have high hopes for what was to come. Eventually, she walked over to her dresser and peered into the mirror. There still wasn't any sign of Beetlejuice. She dug through her drawers, pulled out a change of clothes, and headed to the bathroom to take a shower. While she was showering someone knocked lightly on the door.

"Lydia is it ok if I come in?" her mother asked hesitantly.

"Sure," Lydia said.

"I just wanted to talk to you in private for a minute," Delia began.

"Can't it wait until I'm out of the shower? I really don't want to do this right now," Lydia groaned.

"I know dear but … Oh! Is this the ring you were talking about last night?" her mother asked.

Lydia's heart skipped a beat. The only time she ever took that ring off was when she showered. BJ could only spy on her in the real world if she was wearing the ring. It had seemed prudent to leave the ring off while showering. Now her heart was racing and she was cursing herself for taking it off for even a moment. She peeked around the edge of the shower curtain and watched as her mother turned the ring over and looked at the inscription.

"It's a very lovely antique. Where did you get it?" Delia questioned.

"I bought it at the thrift store near school," Lydia lied, trying to sound casual. She silently willed her mother to put the ring down and leave the bathroom.

Her mother closed her fist around the ring and turned towards the shower. "Lydia there are a lot of things your father and I need to talk to you about. I think a lot of them will be hard for you. I wanted to tell you beforehand that we love you very much. Please don't doubt that. Your father is worried that you might hate him forever, but I think one day you will understand all of this. We'll be waiting for you downstairs when you're finished getting ready." With that, her mother left the bathroom, shutting the door quietly. She hadn't put the ring back on the counter.

Lydia's stomach lurched uncomfortably. Her mom was never this cryptic about anything. Whatever it was, it must be really bad. Her mind ran in circles as she finished her shower and returned to her room. They had already grounded her and were taking away her camera privileges. As she considered what else they could possibly do, her mind replayed Delia closing her fist around the ring. She felt like someone had taken hold of her heart and was relentlessly squeezing. She needed Beetlejuice, but without her ring she couldn't call him.

With nothing left to do but go downstairs, Lydia forced herself to leave her room. Her parents were sitting at the kitchen table talking in hushed voices. Charles set his morning paper down and cleared his throat.

"Lydia I need you to listen to me, and not interrupt, while I explain some things to you. Can you do that?" he asked. Lydia started to form a sarcastic reply but then thought better of it. She was already in enough trouble it seemed. Silently she nodded as she sat across from her father.

"Thinking about the last year I really don't know how your mother and I missed all the signs," he said sighing. "You've been isolating yourself. You come home from school and close yourself in your room for hours. You've always had a preoccupation with death, but lately it seems like an obsession. You hardly spend any time with your friends from school anymore and things like last night seem to be happening more and more."

"At first your mother and I assumed this was all about a boy, but we've never seen you socialize with anyone other than Bertha, Prudence, and Betty. You never spend any time on the telephone with anyone either," he said seeming uncomfortable with the topic.

"Then last night you said all those things about Beetlejuice and a Neitherworld. It's like you're living in a fantasy world. Pumpkin, your mother and I can't ignore your mental state anymore," Charles said sorrowfully. He seemed unable to continue and looked to Delia for support.

"We've been in touch with your school guidance counselor and she is just as worried as we are. She said you've been seen talking to yourself in the hallways sometimes and we've noticed you doing it at home as well," Delia said in a low voice. "Your counselor thinks, and we agree, that it would be extremely beneficial for you to stay at Heatherwood Haven for the next week." She hurriedly continued before Lydia could speak, "It's not a hospital, but they specialize in teens who are going through crisis. They can help you with whatever it is you are going through right now."

Lydia started to speak but then stopped. She thought she had been prepared for what was coming. She thought maybe her parents weren't going to get her the car they promised, or maybe they were taking away her darkroom completely. This was unfathomable. Horrified, she could see what it all looked like from the outside and there wasn't any real way to explain it all away. She hadn't been as careful as she should have been with her interactions with BJ. Her parents were staring at her, obviously waiting for a response.

"I'm not going to that place. There isn't anything wrong with me," she managed to get out. Her voice sounded far away to her ears.

"Lydia you're a minor and you don't really have a choice. This is not something we have skills to help you with and we are asking you to trust us," her mother said.

"This is absurd. You'll have to drag me kicking and screaming because I won't go. I'm not crazy, Dad how can you think I'm crazy?" Lydia asked desperately looking at her father.

"Pumpkin, this is something we've thought long and hard about. We have tried talking to you about your behavior and you never listen. I don't know what else to do, after last night we just can't let this continue anymore," her father said turning away from the pleading look in his daughter's eyes.

"This is unbelievable. You two have just been sitting around deciding something like this without even giving me any options!" Lydia pushed back from the table angrily and stood up. Maybe they had been reaching out to her lately, but they had to see that she wasn't mentally unstable. Her grades were excellent, she was happy, and the few friends she had were amazing people. Lydia turned away from her parents and began to stomp away angrily.

"Do you want your ring back?" Delia asked before Lydia had made it out of the room.

Lydia froze. Losing that ring was not an option for her, but she couldn't bring herself to agree to what her parents wanted. She felt her whole world flipping on its axis and she couldn't seem to stop it. Her eyes started to burn as tears threatened. Turning to face her mother, Lydia couldn't suppress the hurt in her voice.

"There's nothing wrong with me. I'm sorry about the way I have been acting and really I will do better. I won't sneak around and I'll spend more time out of my room. Please don't make me go to that place. You guys have to believe me! Please don't do this," Lydia's voice faltered and the tears that had threatened finally started to fall down her face.

"Lydia it's just one week and the arrangements have already been made. Commit to the week and we'll reconsider the darkroom situation," her father implored.

Her parents had trapped her. There was no easy way out of the situation without BJ's help. She would have to spend the week talking to some lab coat about her feelings. She would also have to come up with some reasonable excuses to account for why she was spending so much of her time 'alone'. Contemplating the situation, Lydia thought it was best to view the whole thing as her biggest con job yet. She had learned from the best after all. Wiping the tears from her eyes she walked back to the table.

"Fine, I'll go pack." Lydia strode out of the room and into the next phase of her life.

* * *

Lydia had gone through with the week at the Haven. With every minute that passed there she had felt as if her brain was leaking out of her ears. They ultimately decided that she wasn't 'in crisis' and sent her home with a prescription for weekly therapy. Her relationship with her parents had crumbled even further when they refused to return her ring to her. They had spouted some nonsense about it being the foundation of her delusional hierarchy, which had obviously come straight from the shrink at Haven. Every time that Lydia had the opportunity, she searched in vain for the ring. It was exceedingly difficult when her parents hardly ever allowed her to be alone.

College had been Lydia's salvation. It got her out of her parent's house and opened up a whole new world for her. She made friends, was recognized for her artistic talent, and reveled in her new found freedom. During her first year she had her nose pierced. At the end of her second year she made Deans list and as a gift to herself got the first piece of her tattoo. The tattoo currently extended all the way from her right shoulder down to her hip. She was extremely proud having designed the entire piece herself.

There was rarely a day that passed that she didn't think of Beetlejuice. Sometimes she would make it a whole day without consciously thinking of him only to have him engulf her dreams. More than a few times, she avoided everyone just to wallow. It was impossible to explain to others that she was mourning the loss of her dearest friend who lived in an unreachable realm.

During a particular low point she had purchased several books on the occult and modern witchcraft. She had even acquired a Ouija board. While purchasing the items she had mentally chastised herself for feeling embarrassed. She knew better than anyone that magic and the supernatural were real. Unfortunately, after hundreds of attempts, nothing enabled her to reconnect with Beetlejuice.

Now Lydia had her parent's house to herself for an entire month. She had been waiting for this opportunity for years. From her previous searches she would be able to narrow down the possibilities. The ring was in the house somewhere and she was determined to find it. If necessary, she would tear every wall in the house down. Grinning mischievously, Lydia thought she might just do that anyway.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks again to everyone writing reviews! I hope you liked this purely Lydia chapter, I promise to satisfy everyone's Beetlejuice fix in the next chapter :)**


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Beetlejuice floated casually next to Jacques, the skeleton that was jogging at a moderate pace along the Lost Souls highway. The sun was setting, casting rays of amber and purple light that distorted in a hazy blur over the hot pavement. They were a mile outside of the Undercity but the discordant sounds of traffic, laughter, shouts, and bar music were already an audible hum. As they drew closer the pungent smells of sewers and waste wafted on the breeze. Beetlejuice inhaled deeply.

"Jacques you need to lighten up," Beetlejuice advised as he floated Jacques into the air beside him. "You're wasting your afterlife if you ask me."

"Arrêtez! Beetlejuice put me down!" Jacques cried in his heavy French accent.

"Whatever you say," Beetlejuice said, sighing as he allowed Jacques to fall unceremoniously to the ground. The force of the impact dislodged the skeleton's left arm and leg with a loud crack.

"Sacre bleu! Beetlejuice can't you go pester someone else" Jacques said indignantly reaching for his detached limbs.

"Hey Jacques you're 'all right' now," Beetlejuice said bursting into a fit of laughter and flipping over in mid-air.

"Ha ha very funny," Jacques said, giving Beetlejuice a scathing look. He finished attaching his limbs and began to head toward the city once again. His companion floated down to walk beside him, his beetle boots clicking rhythmically on the sidewalk.

As they entered the outskirts of the city the dense smog glowed in a rainbow of undulating patterns as harsh neon lights flashed erratically. A few ghouls lurked in an alleyway, money exchanging hands, as they shared a pipe with a foul smelling odor. Across the street, a female monster with one large purple eye pushed a stroller filled with metal scraps and empty bottles.

"I know you won't ask, but Ginger's doing well. She really likes her apartment above my fitness center," Jacques said, glancing sideways at his friend. Beetlejuice said nothing to this.

"She's teaching a tap dancing class in the evenings twice a week now. The class is not that popular, but she has two regulars and that makes her happy."

Jacques was silent for a few minutes before saying, "Since you are already dead it wouldn't kill you to apologize to her, à mon avis." Beetlejuice just snorted in reply. The skeleton silently admitted defeat and the pair walked on in silence again.

"I assume you're going to The Sweaty Sock oui?" Jacques eventually asked as they came closer to the heart of the city. He had to yell to be heard over the angry shouts and honking of two ghouls whose cars had collided in a busy intersection.

"Yea, we've got a big poker game going tonight if you want in," Beetlejuice said with a smirk. "I'd love to relieve you of that cash that's weighing you down."

"Non, merci. You always cheat. Although I don't know why since it's your own bar and you're already making money off of everyone there." Jacques said, his disapproval apparent.

"What are you, my mom?" Beetlejuice asked with a pop. Suddenly, Jacques was wearing a dress and cradling an infant BJ in his arms. The baby wailed loudly, causing the people nearby to stare. Jacques frowned and dropped the squalling infant. The second he hit the ground there was another pop and Beetlejuice was again walking beside Jacques who was back in his fitness attire.

The Sweaty Sock came into view as they turned the corner. It was a narrow building with dark wood paneling and a sloping roof covered in moss. An illuminated wooden sign above the door had a gigantic dirty sock nailed to it. The stench of the sock was drifting up in visible waves of foulness, with flies buzzing noisily around it. To the right of the door another sign cheekily advertised "Liquor in the front and poker in the rear". No one was sure how Beetlejuice had acquired the place and he had always managed to evade the question when asked directly.

"BJ you've had this place for over a year now. I've never seen you commit to something this long. C'est bien!" Jacques stated, smiling.

"Woah! Enough with the 'c' word, Bones." Beetlejuice said with a hint of embarrassment. "I'm selling it any day now. There's always some sucker out there who I can convince to take it off my hands."

Jacques laughed at his friend. "You said the same thing a few months ago, and again a few months before that. If you are not careful people will start to think you're going legitimate, oui?"

Beetlejuice rolled his eyes and reached for the large brass handle on the foot shaped entryway. "They drink my liquor, I'm pretty sure they aren't able to think at all," he replied as he entered the bar, leaving Jacques laughing as he walked away.

The inside of the bar was dimly lit with wooden booths on the right and a timeworn bar along the wall on the left. A thick velvet curtain separated the bar area from the card tables at the back of the building. An ancient ghoul with jaundiced eyes and gray cracked skin was pouring a viscous green liquid into the cup of the only patron sitting at the bar.

Beetlejuice floated behind the bar and nodded a greeting to the bartender. He pulled a vinyl record from thin air and switched it with the one currently playing on the phonograph. A mix of blues and jazz began to play, the smooth notes of a sax filling the air. Pouring himself a glass of the house specialty, he took a deep swallow and perched himself in the corner.

A tall green creature with a red plume of feathers instead of hair emerged from the bathroom and stumbled drunkenly back towards the bar. Just as the man was about to sit, his chair was juiced a few feet to the left and the creature fell backwards with a loud squawk. Beetlejuice and the other patrons burst into laughter.

"Do you have to do that?" his bartender asked him.

"Don't sweat it gramps, he won't remember this through the hangover he'll have tomorrow," Beetlejuice said, still laughing as he knocked back the rest of his drink. The bartender just shook his head as he grabbed a soiled looking rag and began wiping down the bar.

The door to the bar opened and a petite woman with shadowy hair and large dark eyes made her way to the bar. Avoiding the drunken creature on the floor, she approached Beetlejuice.

"Um, excuse me but did I leave a dark red coat here last night?" the woman asked.

"Not just your coat babes; you left a trail of broken hearts a mile long last night. Can't believe you left here with that wart-faced scaly guy," BJ said grinning as he produced her coat from behind the bar.

"Wha .. what? I left here with someone?" the girl asked as she took her coat, her eyes going wide with shock.

"Yea, he walked over to you and said 'Did you just fart, cuz you're blowing me away'. After that you two were inseparable. He probably had to peel you off of him to pay for your cab," Beetlejuice reported.

The woman made a strangled noise and ran out of the bar without a backwards glance. Beetlejuice chuckled quietly to himself as he returned to his corner. In reality, the girl had been a drunken mess blubbering about her ex for most of the night. When she had reached her limit Beetlejuice had asked his car Doomy to drop her off at the address that was on her license. She didn't need to know that though. He had a reputation to maintain.

Unwillingly, he thought of her dark sad eyes. They reminded him of another pair of eyes. The pain came sudden and sharp and Beetlejuice refilled his glass, downing it in one large gulp. This had been a good week for him, he hadn't thought of Lydia at all until that woman had come into the bar. Now, unable to stop himself, he let images of her flow through his mind.

He remembered the last time he had seen his Lyds. She had been standing, hands on hips, pinning him with a frustrated glare. Her raven hair had been disheveled, with large curling wisps escaping her hair wrap to frame her face. She had looked like a vengeful pixie. To say that he had screwed up royally that night was the understatement of his afterlife. After thoroughly chastising him, she had sent him back to the Neitherworld. Wanting to make sure she had gotten home alright, he had juiced into a book on a shelf in her living room. Exhausted, his power almost completely tapped out, he had only been able to stay long enough to know that her parents were taking away her camera and darkroom because of what he had done. He had spent the next day planning on how he would fix things with her parents for her. Beetlejuice had even bought her a gift.

His efforts had ultimately been for nothing because Lydia had taken their ring off. He had been unable to see her room through his mirror and juicing into her world was impossible. At first, he had thought she was just punishing him for getting her into so much trouble, but the days had turned into weeks and he had still been unable to contact her.

The first year without his best friend he spent locked away in the roadhouse. He avoided Jacques and Ginger like the plague because he was tired of them asking about where Lydia was. Spending time with the teary eyed Doomy had been impossible. To keep himself busy he worked on idle projects like organizing his attic and cleaning some of the skeletons from his closet. He had been convinced that Lydia would ultimately come back.

When Beetlejuice had finally realized that she wasn't returning something inside him had snapped. He became the worst version of himself, ruthlessly terrorizing the inhabitants of the Neitherworld. No one had been safe from his wrath. It was during that time that Ginger had moved out. It was Jacques who had finally given him his wake up call. Although he couldn't bring himself to say it, Beetlejuice was eternally grateful to Jacques. Somehow the crazy bastard had stuck with him through the worst moments of his existence.

Beetlejuice had been forced to lay low for a while after that in order to avoid a sandworm sentence. During that time he had started fermenting his own liquor and selling it to make enough cash for rent. It was the best thing he had ever stumbled into. The materials cost him next to nothing and the fermenting process required almost no effort. Since he had invented the recipe while immersed in his depression over Lydia's absence, he had named the brew 'Torment'. When the bar had fallen into his hands it had seemed like a curious twist of fate. It was now the only Neitherworld bar to serve Torment and he was making a small fortune.

He wouldn't say he was happy, but he was probably as close as he was going to get. The bar was entertaining and it allowed him to prank and scheme at his leisure. The bartender had essentially come with the bar so he never really had to work. On most days he was even able to push Lydia out of his mind and have a bit of peace. Sadly, today wasn't one of those days. It was hard to forget someone who gave you so much to remember.

The record on the phonograph finished and Beetlejuice replaced it with another. Bill Withers started crooning out 'Aint no Sunshine When She's Gone' and the ancient bartender eyed Beetlejuice curiously.

"It's always a woman isn't it," the bartender said in a rough voice.

Beetlejuice grunted and replied snarkily, "With devilish good looks like mine, it's never just one."

"Funny, I don't think a single female has looked at you with anything other than horror in the past year," the bartender pointed out.

"Well it is frightening how sexy I am," Beetlejuice concluded haughtily.

The bar crowd had been growing steadily over the past hour and there was now a decent press of ghouls and monsters. A small group lingered in the back, waiting for the poker tournament to start. The door to the bar opened and Jacques appeared, slowly pushing his way towards the bar.

"I knew you couldn't resist the poker game," Beetlejuice stated as he juiced a stool for his friend at the end of the bar.

"Oui, but if you cheat tonight I'm going to play Celine Dion nonstop in the Roadhouse until your ears bleed," Jacques threatened.

Beetlejuice shuddered at the thought and reached under the bar to retrieve a bottle of Chartreuse. He poured a glass for Jacques, contemplating the challenge of cheating just enough to go up against the skeleton in the final round.

"I don't know why you bitch about me cheating. Without lips and facial tics your poker face is legendary," Beetlejuice complained.

"True, my poker face is incroyable," Jacques said smiling. He took a slow sip of his sweet and pungent liquor.

"Seriously where does that go?" Beetlejuice asked incredulously.

"Que?" the skeleton questioned.

"The liquor or the food you eat. Where the fuck is it going? I mean I don't know if you've noticed Bones but I can see through your chest. That liquor should just be pouring directly onto the stool."

Jacques chuckled heartily. "You have your secrets BJ and I have mine." Beetlejuice continued to stare curiously each time Jacques took a sip. Whatever the secret was, he couldn't figure it out.

His drink finished, Jacques got up from his stool and started to make his way toward the tournament room. Beetlejuice disappeared with a loud pop and became a fly buzzing easy over the crowd. The ghost flitted about the room taking in snatches of disjointed conversations. Just when he was about to return to Jacques, he caught the end of a strange conversation.

"…stronger every day. Honestly, it's disturbing," a burly monster with bulging insect eyes and red fangs was saying to a similar looking monster across the booth from him.

"I don't get what the ring has to …" he didn't get to finish his statement before the other monster punched him in the arm.

"Shut your mouth about that stuff when we're outside the manor. You want to get us killed?" the monster growled at his companion.

"Damn, you didn't have to hit me that hard. I was just wondering. I guess it will be soon now huh?"

"Yea, any day now according to the weaver. It can't happen quick enough, I'm bored with all this waiting BS."

"Same here. Anyway, are we playing poker?"

"Sure lets go."

Beetlejuice buzzed away and popped back into his natural form next to Jacques. He ran his hands through his shaggy hair and looked back towards the monsters. He couldn't remember if he had ever seen them here before. Noticing Jacques looking pointedly at his suit cuffs, Beetlejuice sighed. He rolled his sleeves up past his elbows and snapped his fingers, making a small green visor appear on his head.

"If I win, you have to switch your arms with your legs and stay that way for a week," Beetlejuice said.

"And if I win, you have to take a shower and brush your teeth every day for a week," Jacques challenged.

"Deal."


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Flopping dramatically onto her bed, Lydia expressed her frustration by screaming into a pillow. Three full days and she still hadn't found the ring. She searched her parent's room, every closet in the house, her father's office, and even the guest bedroom. The day before she had decided to tackle the attic, a task she had only just now finished, and it had ultimately proved fruitless. Not yet ready to admit defeat, Lydia was contemplating purchasing a metal detector when her cell phone rang. She grabbed the phone from her bedside table and glanced at the display before answering.

"Hey Jane, what's up?" she asked.

"Hi Lydia, sorry to bug you while you're on vacation but I thought you'd want me to call you about this," Jane apologized.

"It's not a problem. I'm just watching my parent's house for the month. Actually, talking to you is a welcome break. I've been cleaning out some of my old stuff here and all the cobwebs are spreading to my brain," Lydia explained.

"I thought you liked cobwebs," Jane said jokingly. "Anyway, a guy came into the gallery and was interested in having you do some freelance work. He wants you to take some promotional photographs at this manor house for a Halloween event. I checked out the pictures of the house and the place looks like it was made for you! It's got this incredible gothic romance vibe. I have his contact info if you want to call him back."

"That sounds amazing! Let me just grab a pen," Lydia said as she rose from her bed and crossed to her desk. It was rare for her get the opportunity to professionally photograph the things she truly loved. She pulled open her desk drawer and gasped in shock, almost dropping the phone. Lying on an index card in plain sight was the ring she had been scouring the house for.

"Everything ok?" Jane asked, concern lacing her words.

"Uh yea, just um, stubbed my toe," Lydia explained lamely. "Actually, can you text me the guy's info and I'll get back to him later?"

"Sure, that's not a problem. Enjoy your vacation!"

"Yea, thanks. Bye Jane," Lydia said distractedly.

Lydia hung up the phone and stared down at the ring in her drawer. She felt like a moron; she hadn't even considered searching her own room for the ring. In her defense, its presence there really didn't make sense. Continuing to stare into the drawer, the ring appeared to be taped to the back of a small index card. Lifting the card out of the drawer and peeling the ring off, she read the small message written on it.

_I believe this belongs to you Pumpkin. _

_Please don't tell your mother _

_-Dad_

Having spent three days tearing through the house, Lydia didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Her father certainly had an odd way of apologizing. How long had the ring been sitting in her desk without him mentioning it to her she wondered. She picked up the ring and felt immensely relieved. Her deepest fear had been that her parents had thrown it out or lost it forever. Relief turned to elation as she stared down at the object of six years' worth of hopes and desires. She whooped loudly and did a small victory dance around her room.

Having been prepared for this moment since she arrived at the house, Lydia slipped the ring on her finger. She felt a familiar shiver pass through her body. Without delay, she grabbed a backpack that she had stuffed with water and some essentials beforehand. Attached to the outside of the bag was the spider brooch Beetlejuice had given her. Throwing the bag over her shoulders she focused on the Neitherworld and said the words that would take her to where she needed to go:

"Though I know I should be wary,

Still I venture someplace scary.

Ghostly Haunting I turn loose,

Beetlejuice,

Beetlejuice,

Beetlejuice."

A maelstrom of wind whipped through her bedroom as her balcony doors burst open. She reveled in the onslaught of the spell as lightning struck outside and punctuated the burst of magic that enveloped her. The room slipped slightly out of focus and the contents of her room whipped through the air as they were sucked into a swirling vortex between worlds. Her room seemed to warp awkwardly, inverting and becoming briefly intangible. It popped back into focus and she was no longer in her bedroom in Peaceful Pines.

Examining her surroundings, Lydia was slightly confused. Her Neitherworld room no longer resembled the castle tower from years ago. Instead, the room had dark red brick walls which had stretched to double the size of her original room. Her four post bed was against one wall, draped with silver cobweb print curtains, and covered in black satin sheets. Across from the bed was a black chaise lounge accented with blood red throw pillows. She circled the room and ran her hand over an iron dragon statue that towered in one corner. When she came to a tall dark wardrobe embellished with skull carvings she pulled open the doors. There appeared to be dozens of different outfits inside.

"Deadly vu!" Lydia whispered, impressed.

Looking down at herself she noticed that her staple Neitherworld outfit had also been altered. She was wearing black skinny jeans with a vivid red sleeveless shirt. Over the shirt was a shawl of thin black silk that looked like a spider had spun it directly on her. The wide neck of the shawl hung delicately off one shoulder. She ran her fingers over her spider brooch which was no longer on her backpack but hanging from a silver chain around her neck. The backpack itself had transformed into a small leather purse with a thin strap. Looking into the purse, Lydia was shocked to see that the space inside was still equivalent to that of the backpack.

Although she wanted to linger in the room, finding Beetlejuice was Lydia's first priority. She crossed to the front door and edged it open. Peeking out, she wasn't surprised to see that her portal to the Neitherworld didn't lead to the Lost Souls Highway. Instead she was staring at an unfamiliar section of the Undercity. Her room had apparently transformed into an apartment there.

Stepping outside of the apartment, Lydia surveyed the area trying to get her bearings. With no real sense of where she was going, she turned left and began walking towards a busy intersection. The bass of dubstep emanated from a nearby club that advertised a combination morgue and brothel. The sign posted outside declared, "You kill'em, We thrill'em".

She came to the corner and a street vendor behind a battered table leered at her from under a thick coat of matted fur. Making a series of guttural noises, he shoved a shriveled severed hand in her face. Lydia just shook her head and walked hurriedly away. As she moved on from the vendor she caught sight of two hulking monsters with insect eyes shambling up the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. The sight of them made her nervous for some reason and she quickened her pace.

Lydia scanned every street sign she passed but none of them were familiar. As she approached another corner she looked behind her and noticed that the monsters with insect eyes had crossed to her side of the street. Glancing around, Lydia observed that she had entered the bar district. Since it wasn't yet noon, most of the buildings were closed up. With the neon signs turned off and the lack of patrons, the area had an abandoned feel to it. She peeked over her shoulder to see that the monsters were gaining on her. They were grinned hugely at her baring red fangs. Alarmed, Lydia ran as fast as she could for the next entryway. Colliding with a large foot shaped door, she wrenched it open and ducked inside. Pushing the door shut, Lydia leaned heavily against it and tried to catch her breath.

"Where's the fire?" the bartender asked.

Lydia looked up at the grizzled old ghoul behind the bar, but before she could respond there was a crash from the rear of the building. Beetlejuice was standing at the far end of the bar looking dumbstruck with the keg he was carrying dropped at his feet. "Lyds?" he asked in an awed voice.

Lydia, equally stricken, opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted. The door crashed open and she was thrown forward from the force. She tried to scramble away and towards the bar, but one of the monsters grabbed hold of her leg. As she was dragged backwards she managed to take hold of a bar stool and swung it as hard as she could at her attacker. The stool connected with the monster's arm and, momentarily surprised, it released its grip on her leg. As she edged away, a green blast of energy streaked over her head and hit both creatures rendering them immobile. Unable to fight it, they were slammed upward into the ceiling, immediately falling to the ground in an unconscious heap.

"You gonna clean that up?" The bartender asked.

Beetlejuice gave the ghoul a withering look before snapping his fingers. Instantly, the two monsters were bound and gagged in a booth toward the back of the room. The stool was returned undamaged to the bar and the keg was now tapped on the counter.

Thoroughly rattled, Lydia stood up shakily and brushed herself off. She took a seat at the bar and ran her hands through her hair. This was a bit more excitement than she had planned for her first time back in the Neitherworld. She needed another moment before she was prepared to talk with Beetlejuice.

"Do a girl a favor and get me a glass of the strongest stuff you have" Lydia said to the bartender.

Beetlejuice had floated up behind her as she made the request and shook his head no at the ghoul. He didn't think a glass of Torment was the best idea for a living human. Reaching under the counter the bartender pulled out a bottle of whiskey instead and poured Lydia two fingers. She tossed it back in one swallow and felt her nerves settle as it burned its way down her throat. The bartender raised an eyebrow appreciatively.

Her drink finished, Lydia turned around to face Beetlejuice. "I haven't been able to come to the Neitherworld all these years because my parents took the ring away. I didn't get it back until today," she said without preamble. In case something else crazy happened, she wanted to at least get that much out.

Looking momentarily taken aback, Beetlejuice asked, "So you don't hate me?"

Surprised, Lydia shook her head vehemently, "Of course not! I could never hate you Beej."

The bartender snorted in disbelief at her words and Beetlejuice sneered at him. There was a pop and a miniature mountain and Beetlejuice appeared on the bar counter. "Go take a hike Gramps," the miniaturized BJ said, clothed in hiking gear and scaling the mountain. Chuckling, the bartender walked to the back of the bar and disappeared behind the thick velvet curtain.

There was another pop and Beetlejuice was sitting next to Lydia at the bar. He stared intently at her before saying, "I missed you babes."

Lydia's smile was radiant. "I missed you too Beej." She looked him over, her eyes drinking in all the details of his appearance. He wasn't wearing his suit jacket and his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His black tie hung loosely from his open collar. Despite the years that had passed, he was still frozen somewhere in his thirties. He looked great. Really great. Narrowing her eyes at him she asked, "So did you lose a bet?" Beetlejuice raised one eyebrow curiously at her question.

"BJ you're clean, I can't even smell you from here. Also, I feel like I need sunglasses to look at your teeth," Lydia clarified.

Beetlejuice groaned loudly and put his head in his hands. "Babes this bathing stuff is killing me all over again! Seriously do something quick to make me dirty!" Lydia gave him a sly look and then burst into laughter. "Uh, that's not what I meant," he said looking slightly embarrassed.

Internally, his denial didn't carry much weight when he couldn't help but notice that Lydia looked far too good. Her dark hair fell in silken waves to a point just above her waist and her bangs were long enough to tuck behind her ears. Although her height was the same, her lean frame had filled out attractively in the past few years. Of all the changes, the biggest difference was probably her lack of makeup. While she had applied light accents to her features, she had abandoned her dramatic smoky eye look. Now the eyes that had haunted him for so many years were looking at him quizzically as he continued to stare.

"Jacques." Beetlejuice blurted out.

"What?"

"I lost a bet to Jacques. That damn skeleton's poker face is almost unbeatable," he explained.

"Honestly, I'm shocked that with so much at stake you didn't just cheat," Lydia smirked.

"Yea well, he threatened me with epic levels of torture if I did," he said with a shiver.

Lydia wondered what had changed in the past six years between the ghost and skeleton for Beetlejuice to even care. Even if Jacques had threatened him he could easily have juiced his way out of the situation. She was about to pursue the topic further when his next comment stopped her.

"Why did your parents take the ring away?" Beetlejuice asked.

"Uh, I'm not sure I want to go into all the nasty details right this moment. It's kind of a long story," Lydia said evasively.

Beetlejuice decided to let it drop since the monsters picked that moment to regain consciousness. They growled loudly and began to struggle against their bonds. Freezing the creatures again, Beetlejuice turned to Lydia.

"So are these guys friends of yours?" Beetlejuice asked, floating over to examine the frozen creatures.

"Oh yea, I picked them up at the combination morgue and brothel. Getting a rise out of the dead seemed a fun way to pass the time in the five blocks it took me to get here," Lydia said sarcastically as she came to stand beside him.

Beetlejuice chuckled.

"Seriously though, my Neitherworld portal opened up to an apartment down the road. I noticed them following me shortly after I came through. Maybe they just thought I was an easy target," Lydia suggested.

"Maybe. Let's see what they have to say for themselves," Beetlejuice said as he unfroze the pair.

They struggled against their bonds for a few moments and then began muttering rapidly to each other in a strange language.

"Did you understand any of that?" Lydia asked.

"No actually," Beetlejuice said, puzzled.

"Insignificant worms like you would never understand the divine language," the larger monster rasped.

"That would sound much more impressive if you weren't tied up," Lydia pointed out.

"We might have failed in your capture, but soon you will know the ultimate suffering. If you are lucky, in your last moments of pain and terror, you will be fortunate enough to gaze upon our master. Then you will know the ultimate form of power and glory."

"Ok, I'm going to need you to turn down the crazy for just a minute. Tell me why you were trying to kidnap her," Beetlejuice demanded.

The monsters grinned evilly and then spoke simultaneously in their strange language. There was a burst of red light and the monsters were gone. The smell of sulfur lingered in the air and all that remained of the monsters was a pile of ashes.

"I guess our interrogation skills need some work," Lydia mused.

Beetlejuice snapped and was suddenly clad in a tweed overcoat and matching deerstalker hat. He puffed deeply on a pipe before saying, "Indeed my dear Lydson."

Lydia laughed.

The bartender walked back in and took his place behind the bar as Beetlejuice returned to his classic suit. "Is it that hard for you to go more than an hour without making a mess?" the ghoul asked.

Juicing the monster dust away, Beetlejuice ignored the question and crossed to the bar. "I'm heading home gramps, don't do anything I wouldn't do," he said smiling.

"Like run the bar?" the ghoul mocked, causing Beetlejuice to laugh.

Beetlejuice grabbed Lydia's hand and with a sudden crack of energy they were standing in the living room of his Roadhouse. Lydia noticed several changes in the room immediately. The first was that BJ's book collection had grown tremendously since the last time she was there. Lopsided bookshelves lined every available wall space and each was filled to the brim. Books spilled from a few shelves piling up in a small heap on the floor. A slightly dingy but cozy looking sectional seemed to have replaced the ancient sofa. The rest of the room retained its original charm with industrial lighting, a coffin coffee table, and a large fireplace.

Gripping her hands together, Lydia walked over to a shelf and read some of the book titles. Beetlejuice had let go of her hand as soon as they had appeared in the Roadhouse and she felt oddly deprived at the loss of contact. It was a bit overwhelming how much she wanted to say to him.

"You're still my best friend you know," Lydia stated in low voice.

She was still facing the bookshelf and missed the look of affection Beetlejuice gave her. There was so much he wanted to say to her.

"I know," he said instead.

Lydia turned to smirk at the ghost who was floating on his back with his ankles crossed and his head resting on his folded arms.

"I've been saving all the monster movies that have come out since you've been away," Beetlejuice said nonchalantly. He glanced down out of the corner of his eye to gauge her reaction.

She walked over and sat down in the corner of the couch. Reaching into her purse she pulled out a bag of chips. After opening it she waited a beat before asking, "What? Are you going to make me beg?"

Beetlejuiced cackled and floated down to join her.

* * *

Somewhere in the dark, the report of the failed kidnapping reached the master's ears. His howl of rage shook the earth for miles.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has favorited, followed, or reviewed this story! It means a lot to me and I hope you are enjoying the story so far. Please keep reviewing, I love to know what everyone thinks :)**

**Chapter 5**

Lydia woke the next morning and eased out of her bed in the real world. She gently rolled her shoulders, frowning over her stiff muscles. The chase and struggle with the monsters from the day before had been harder on her body than she had thought. She reached her arms up over her head and stretched until she heard her back crack. Sunlight poured through her windows and a quick glance at her clock told her it was a quarter after ten.

Craving coffee and food, Lydia padded lightly downstairs to the kitchen. She flipped on the radio and then measured out a few scoops of coffee. After turning the coffee pot on, she rummaged around the kitchen for what she needed to make pancakes. She cracked some eggs into a bowl and shook her hips to the rhythm of the music as she began to whisk in the rest of the ingredients.

She couldn't remember the last time she had been in such a good mood. Beetlejuice was back in her life and she wouldn't have to wait another six years to hang out and laugh with him again. She kept picturing his sinful smirk and the mischievous gleam he got in his eyes just before he transformed. When he put effort into cleaning up, he was certainly handsome. Shaking her head over the direction of her thoughts, she finished mixing her ingredients and placed the bowl on the counter. She hummed along to the music and danced her way over to the utensil drawer to grab out a spatula.

"Hey babes, are you making fries to go with that shake?" the black and white spatula asked her.

Lydia yelped and dropped the spatula to the ground. She recovered quickly and called out, "Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!"

Beetlejuice appeared in midair holding his stomach as he shook with laughter. "The look on your face Babes!"

Lydia tried and failed to hide her smile. "Oh I'll get you for that. I'd watch your back if I was you," Lydia contended. There was a light popping sound and she turned to see that Beetlejuice's head was facing the wrong way, staring down at his own back. Laughing, she turned back around and struggled on her tip toes to grab out a jar of cinnamon from a high cabinet.

"I got that Lyds," Beetlejuice said, his voice appearing close to her ear. He easily reached over her head and grabbed the container. Setting it on the counter, he waited just a moment longer before moving away. She smelt like flowers and rain, which usually wasn't his thing, but he couldn't help taking just one more deep breath before popping to the other side of the kitchen island. He sat at a stool and watched as she began to pour batter into a pan on the stove.

Studying the tattoo that adorned Lydia's shoulder, he admired how well it fit her. Black and white roses with thorned vines curled around a red skull that was positioned at the top of her arm. Every so often, while she was moving around the kitchen, her tank top would creep up and he could see that the tattoo continued down to her hip. He wondered what the rest of the design looked like. Feeling a bit awkward staring at her, he searched for something to distract himself.

"I've been thinking about those monsters from yesterday," he announced.

"Does it hurt?" Lydia replied, sarcastically.

"Ouch babes," he said as an arrow suddenly appeared to strike him in the heart. Falling dramatically from his chair, he returned to his seat when he heard her laughter.

"Seriously, I've never seen those creatures before. They seemed young for the Neitherworld, but not new," Beetlejuice continued. "I think they might be demons."

Lydia served up two plates of pancakes and placed them on the counter. She pulled up a stool and sat across from Beetlejuice who was staring at his plate with a mix of curiosity and trepidation.

"Sorry I don't have any bugs to garnish it with," Lydia apologized, grinning at the ghost. She filled her fork with a syrupy piece of pancake topped with a strawberry and offered it him. He hesitated but then leaned forward and took the offered bite. Chewing slowly he tried to ascertain whether he liked it or not. The strawberry was disgusting, but the rest wasn't half bad.

"Well it's not beetles, but it doesn't completely suck," he concluded. Reaching for the syrup, he proceeded to pour half the bottle over his few pancakes. He snapped and two mugs of black coffee appeared next to their plates.

"Thanks," Lydia said, taking a sip from her coffee. "So you think those monsters were demons? That doesn't sound too strange considering it's the Neitherworld."

"Demons are from a different realm altogether. They aren't supposed to be in the Neitherworld at all," Beetlejuice elaborated through a mouth filled with food.

Lydia frowned down at her breakfast. It was definitely more worrying knowing that the creatures who had attempted to capture her weren't even supposed to be in the Neitherworld. After thinking it over for a moment she said, "Well I'm not supposed to be in the Neitherworld either and yet I've gone there tons of times."

"Yea and the second you didn't have that ring neither of us could reach each other for six years. And believe me that wasn't for lack of trying," he pointed out. Beetlejuice finished his plate of pancakes and floated into the air with his cup of coffee.

"I tried a bunch of things too. I even got a Ouija board," Lydia admitted.

"No shit?" Beetlejuice replied grinning.

"Well they must have something that's letting them in. Know anyone we could ask about it?"

Beetlejuice took a slow sip of his coffee as he considered. He could only think of one person and it wasn't going to be easy.

"We could ask the Prince," he conceded.

"That should be simple enough then. Think he'll see us today?" she asked.

Beetlejuice turned away guiltily. "Uh that might be a bit difficult," he said sheepishly.

Lydia rolled her eyes. "What did you do?"

"Uh I might have pulled a prank and the Prince banned me from the castle for eternity. Remember that video game kid, Deadie Eddie? Well the Prince had him make some kind of barrier. The only way for me to get in the castle is to walk in, and once inside my powers don't work at all."

"Ok you can't tell me that and then deny me the fun of knowing what sort of epic prank you pulled," Lydia insisted. She had finished her breakfast and got up to put their dishes in the sink. She grabbed one of her cigarettes from the counter and lit it as she sat back down.

"What's that babes?" he asked, gesturing at the black cigarette she was smoking.

"A clove cigarette. You can have one if you like," she offered.

Beetlejuice snapped and one of the cigarettes appeared, already lit, in the corner of his mouth. He inhaled deeply and then let out a puff of smoke that formed into the shape of a beetle.

"So what did you do?" Lydia asked again.

"Well the Prince had some sort of huge fancy party going and I really just couldn't help myself. I juiced the clothes off of all those losers, which was hilarious. Everyone was running around in their underwear, knocking over tables trying to find cover. It was a riot. But the Prince just so happened to be wearing a bright pink bra and thong, complete with a frilly garter belt and white lace hose."

"Seriously?" Lydia said choking on the coffee she had just taken a sip of.

Beetlejuice's eyes glowed with mirth as he continued, "Well the Prince squealed and ran from the room, but not before everyone had a good eyeful. I tried to tell him that it was a good look for him, but he banished me from the castle and created that barrier. Oh, and I'm pretty sure you're guilty by association babes."

"That's not fair! I get all of the punishment and none of the fun. I really wish I could have been there. The poor Prince though, it probably did nothing to enhance his mood," she commented. After taking one last drag of her cigarette she put it out in an ashtray and started to head back upstairs.

"I just need to make a phone call for work, shower, and grab some food to eat later and then we can head back," she said as she climbed the stairs.

"Work?" Beetlejuice questioned.

"Yea I work for an art gallery. Most of the work is pretty boring standard stuff but they called me yesterday about a freelance gig for a Halloween event. Apparently the location is some spooky manor," Lydia explained as she entered her bedroom. She grabbed her cell phone and checked her texts for the contact info she needed.

"I always thought your pictures were the best," he informed her.

Lydia smiled over at the ghost who was currently sitting backwards in her desk chair. "Remember that time you tried to be a handy man for my parents to get the cash to buy one of my pictures?"

"Yea that was the last time I used Neitherworld tools" he said shivering at the memory.

"You know I've been thinking about it and the whole bar thing really suits you," Lydia asserted.

"Babes, you have no idea how fun it is to mess with drunk people."

"Yes I do, I dormed at college," she smirked.

"You should come with me tonight then. There should be a poker game going if you're into that, but you don't stand a chance against the ghost with the most" Beetejuice said smiling sweetly at her.

"Want to make a bet?" Lydia challenged.

* * *

The manor house existed in a place between worlds. It had appeared in the Neitherworld as an imposing castle near the end of the Lost Souls highway roughly two hundred years ago. No one had ever seen the inhabitants or knew if there were any. Rumors circulated about the few who ventured onto the property never being seen or heard from again. The sinister reputation was enough to keep both animals and monsters away. Even the ravens, which could fly between worlds, would not perch upon the parapets of the frightening fortress.

It was raining when a lone figure approached the castle doors in the early morning gloom. A soft manicured hand appeared from beneath the folds of a cloak and pulled a thick rope near the doors that rang a bell within. The door was answered promptly by a small creature that resembled an upright hairless cat. It growled at the man who removed his hood, revealing his face. The man appeared young but tall, his distinguished features hinting at nobility. His long brown hair was tied back in a ponytail, revealing an angular black spiral tattoo at the base of his neck.

"The master is expecting me," he said simply. His icy blue eyes were filled with disdain as his gaze fixated on the creature in the doorway.

The creature matched the stare for a moment and then hissed its acquiescence and moved away to allow the visitor to enter. The man strode confidently into the cavernous entryway. When he was halfway through the room a voice on his left stopped him.

"Dimitri, you've returned. It better be with good news, otherwise I'm not sure you'll make it out of here alive."

The man turned towards the voice and watched as its source moved from the shadows to approach him. The monster was roughly six feet tall with black skin and patches of scales and oily fur covering its body. Its large insect eyes were the size of dinner plates and were located at the center of its massive head. The creature had no neck which enhanced its stocky appearance. He knew the red fanged creature was called a Tacua, a lesser demon from his master's realm.

In an instant Dimitri had his sword against the Tacua's chest, directly over its heart. His eyes reflected a burning rage and the demon knew that the blade was not an idle threat.

"I will not be addressed so informally by something as replaceable as a Tacua," he growled.

"I …I apologize Duke Yanayev. Forgive me my insolence. I meant no disrespect," the demon simpered.

The Duke relaxed his stance and lowered his sword. "Are you here to escort me?" he inquired.

"Yes. I warn you, our master has been in a foul mood since the failure of my brethren. He has killed at least twenty of us since yesterday," the demon confided.

"Then it is best not to keep him waiting. If you've finished with the school girl gossip I would appreciate if we proceeded. Unless you would like to be responsible for my tardiness?"

That silenced the demon and he began leading the Duke through the labyrinthine hallways. They passed several doors where he could hear screams and whimpers within, sounds he had long ago become numb to. Eventually, they came to a set of large double doors.

"The Master is within. I will remain here if you require my services," the demon rasped as he pulled the doors open.

The Duke proceeded through and entered a room the size of a large warehouse. A deep red carpet runner led to a raised dais that was shrouded in shadows at the far end of the room. Dimitri walked to the edge of the dais and immediately knelt upon one knee, his eyes cast downward.

"My master, I am humbly at your service," he stated in a patronizing tone.

"My dear boy, it displeases me that you still have not learned the appropriate level of humility in my presence," the Master said from the darkness. "I already know your mission was successful. Do you forsee any obstacles to proceeding as planned?"

"No, she contacted me today and I've made the necessary arrangements. My objections still stand though," the Duke said.

"Ah yes. You believe that I should take things slower, to allow the insult of my stolen power to persist," the Master acknowledged.

"I mean no insult my Master. I just feel that it would be prudent to exercise more caution. We know almost nothing about the girl," Dimitri implored.

"I grow weary of these objections. If you have nothing more to say then I want you to proceed with the next steps," the Master chided.

"As you wish master," Dimitri said. He waited for a minute still on one knee. Leaving before being dismissed was punishable by death. Several minutes passed and Dimitri knew that the Master was making him wait as a subtle demonstration of power. He waited with absolute stillness, not betraying his growing frustration.

"You are dismissed," the Master eventually said. Dimitri bowed, his muscles stiff, and left the room to rejoin the demon who had escorted him in.

"Well you're not dead," the demon asserted. Dimitri did not reply and followed the demon back silently toward the entrance.

All the demons in residence knew that he was marked. He couldn't do anything against the Master's will. He was the perfect weapon, free thinking and clever, but incapable of betrayal. His life had never been his to begin or end.

"Not yet," Dimitri finally replied.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Lydia leaned away from the bar with an exasperated sigh. Beetlejuice raised his eyebrows expectantly, but she still didn't answer his question.

"Well does he have huge bat wings that he flies around with?" Beetlejuice asked.

"No," Lydia replied.

"What about fangs for sucking blood?"

"No."

"Or a sonic bat call that gives him x-ray vision?"

"Uh, no."

"Does he ride into battle on the back of a giant bat?"

"Definitely not."

"Then why the hell is he called Batman?" Beetlejuice demanded as he returned to his usual appearance. He had transformed with each question to demonstrate his theories to Lydia.

"The bat thing is just his symbol. It makes him seem darker and more broody I think," Lydia responded with slight uncertainty. She took a sip from her glass of whiskey before continuing. "And I guess because he wears a bat costume."

Beetlejuice looked down at her sketchbook dubiously. He rotated the book in his hands and shook his head. "Babes, I've seen better bat costumes and way scarier bats," he commented as he returned to flipping through the pages of her drawings.

Lydia chuckled and turned with her drink to watch the crowd. A steady stream of patrons had been coming and going since they had arrived at the Sweaty Sock. She enjoyed watching the drinking and reveling from her corner of the bar. In a nearby booth, two monsters were arm wrestling. A small group that surrounded them hurriedly placed bets. She wondered absently if you still called it arm wrestling when a tentacle was involved.

The atmosphere in the bar reminded Lydia of a college trip where she had gone on a pub crawl through New Orleans with some friends. Brassy big band music was playing on an old phonograph, and the sickly sweet smell of spilt alcohol hung in the air. There was a crash as someone knocked over a table causing a small fight to break out. She watched Beetlejuice snap his fingers without looking up. The fighting ghouls were no longer in the bar, and the table had righted itself. She wondered if Beetlejuice was the reason that it was easier for her to relax here with monsters than it was for her with people on that college trip.

After a few minutes, Lydia realized that Beetlejuice had ceased his endless questions about the subjects of her sketches. She turned back to him to see what he was up to. The ghost was looking steadily at one of her pictures, his face expressionless. She angled her head and saw that it was a sketch she had done of Beetlejuice a few years ago. Did he not like it she wondered?

"We need another keg of Torment kid," the bartender informed Beetlejuice interrupting the ghosts' reverie.

"Ok gramps," he replied, placing the sketchbook on the bar. "Be right back babes." He disappeared with a small pop.

The bartender squinted down at the sketch of Beetlejuice and gave Lydia a lopsided smirk. "A picture is a lot less trouble than the real thing," he stated with a wink.

Lydia grinned back at him before saying, "I'm Lydia by the way. Sorry about everything that happened yesterday."

The bartender waved off her apology. "Chugs Boozer," he replied and offered her his grizzled hand.

She accepted his handshake, but felt a little nervous when he didn't release her immediately. "I haven't shaken hands with a living person in a millennium," he said with an awkward shrug as he finally released her hand.

The idea of existing for a millennium staggered Lydia. "Really? You don't look a day over three hundred," she teased him.

Chugs burst into laughter, which was a hoarse mixture of cackling and wheezing coughs. Beetlejuice reappeared looking quizzically at the pair.

"Gramps I didn't know you could laugh," Beetlejuice admitted.

"That's because you never say anything funny," he drawled and walked off to serve a ghoul that had approached the bar. Beetlejuice stared after Chugs with his jaw hanging open in a mixture of horror and insult.

"He was just messing with you Beej," Lydia offered. She couldn't help the small giggle that escaped her lips at his affronted look.

"Lydia?" a voice called out from behind her.

Lydia turned and saw Jacques LaLean standing just inside the doorway to the bar. His expression was comically dumbfounded. She noticed that he was no longer wearing the eighties style fitness attire that she had last seen him in. Instead, he was wearing a long-sleeved black turtleneck and simple grey slacks. His hip bones still stuck out slightly above the waist of the slacks. She happily noted that the red beret had not been abandoned and was perched on his skull at a slight angle.

"Jacques!" she cried as she hopped down from her stool and rushed over to the skeleton. He caught her in a bone crushing hug, lifting her up off the ground.

"Mon Dieu! I never thought we'd see you again," he exclaimed. He set her down and looked her over. "Ma chèrie, you are enchanting as always."

"Smooth talker," Lydia accused smiling. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to visit for all this time," she began.

Jacques cut her off, "No apologies. You are here now, oui?"

"No getting rid of me," she smiled.

Jacques looked over her shoulder at Beetlejuice and a mischievous grin lit his face. He leaned down and whispered something in Lydia's ear.

Beetlejuice watched the pair from across the room curiously. What was the skeleton up to he wondered? He watched as Jacques continued to lean down intimately, whispering something to Lydia. She laughed and hugged the skeleton again, causing Beetlejuice to frown in annoyance. Lydia hadn't hugged him once since she had returned to the Neitherworld. Years ago she couldn't seem to stop herself from hugging him over every little thing. He had assumed that their time apart had made her more reserved, but here she was hugging the shit out of Jacques. They started to make their way over to him and he forced himself to let it go.

"Beetlejuice, you're looking very clean today," Jacques said in greeting.

"That's only because you can't see my thoughts," Beetlejuice smirked.

Jacques laughed at his comment and then turned to Lydia. "So what do you think of Beetlejuice's foray into a legitimate business enterprise?" he asked her.

"If you say the words legitimate or commitment one more time I might have to hit you," Beetlejuice choked out.

Both Lydia and Jacques found his statement incredibly amusing and began to laugh. Beetlejuice rolled his eyes and leaned back on his arms as he pointedly ignored the people who were supposed to be his friends.

"Beej I'm actually really curious about this Torment stuff," Lydia said once she had recovered.

"Non, you don't want that stuff Lydia," Jacques told her.

"Will it kill me?" Lydia asked looking at Beetlejuice for an answer.

"I don't think it will kill you, but it's strong enough that the dead can get drunk with it. If I was to pour you a shot glass it would probably be all you could handle for the entire night," Beetlejuice cautioned.

"What's it made from?" she probed.

"Uh, trade secret," he said evasively.

"Hmm, maybe it's better that I don't know," she conceded. "So what are you waiting for? Let's see what this Torment stuff is all about." Beetlejuice hesitated and Jacques looked like he was seriously questioning Lydia's sanity. "I'll take it slow if that's what you two are worried about," she promised.

Lydia's willingness to consume things in the Neitherworld had always impressed Beetlejuice. She had certainly tried more things then was probably wise. "Actually babes, I think it's probably better if you don't drink any," Beetlejuice said, changing his mind. "If I beat you in the poker game we're about to play I don't wanna hear that I cheated by getting you hammered."

"I'll just stick to my whiskey then," she conceded, her ploy already ruined. She had only really wanted to know what the main ingredient was. "Although, I think you're just afraid of _losing_ to a drunk girl."

"Ce n'est pas important, I won't be losing to either of you," Jacques said with a smirk.

Beetlejuice cackled at his friends. He fanned his hands theatrically and a deck of cards appeared. After what happened earlier that week, he decided against making any bets with either of them.

* * *

"Beetlejuice just admit that you stole it and give it back!" Jacques demanded.

"Pfft. I'm telling you that I didn't steal it. Obviously you just need to keep better track of yourself," he replied.

"Right, because I would leave the house with half of my hand missing!" Jacques exclaimed, his outrage growing.

"Jacques I can lend you a hand if you need it that bad," Beetljuice offered. He proceeded to pull his left hand off and thrust it in Jacques face.

"C'est des conneries! Beetlejuice just give it back and I won't beat you to death with one of my other parts."

"Woah there, what part were you thinking of exactly Bones?"

"Ta gueule!"

Lydia only partially listened to the argument as the French swears started to go over her head. The liquor she had consumed sat warmly in her stomach and her thoughts were pleasantly muddled. Her eyes wandered carelessly over the crowd and stopped when they landed on an upright goat creature standing near the entrance to the bar. The creature was dressed in a black dress shirt with his hands tucked in the pockets of weathered jeans. His large curled horns were currently cocked at an angle as he stared curiously at her. He suddenly straightened and she found herself unable to look away from his eyes. The irises were a striking silver color with only a black horizontal slit for a pupil.

_Lydia …_

Did someone call her name she wondered vaguely? Those silver eyes were so captivating and she was finding it hard to look away.

_Lydia, why don't you come closer. _

She felt herself rising from her seat and started to slowly cross towards the entrance. There was something about those intense eyes. If she just got close enough maybe she would figure out what it was.

_Don't you want to get out of this suffocating place?_

Lydia realized that it was incredibly stuffy in the bar. The air was thick with tobacco smoke, sweat, and putrid liquor. She needed to get outside so she could clear her head and catch her breath. She reached the goat creature and continued past him when he held the door open for her.

_Isn't it just beautiful out tonight. _

"It's so beautiful out tonight," Lydia heard herself say. Her voice sounded slightly muffled and distant. She looked down and noticed that the goat creature had taken hold of her hand. About to protest the contact she looked up and found herself distracted by his eyes again.

_Don't you want me to take you away from here Lydia?_

"Would you mind it if we got out of here?" she found herself asking the goat. A small part of her mind fluttered in protest. She had asked the question, but there was a small pit of dread building in her stomach. Was her anxiety the reason she was asking this creature to take her away? Her thoughts swirled in her head and she couldn't escape her confusion. The goat nodded down at her and began to lead her away from the bar. They turned down the first alley they came to and a sleek black limo was waiting at the opposite end.

_This is your ride. You should invite me in. _

Lydia reached out and opened the door to the passenger area of the limo. Looking up at the goat she asked, "Would you like to join me?"

The goat gestured for her to enter first. Lydia slid into the backseat and the feeling of anxiety fluttered against her consciousness again. The ring on her finger was itching too and it reminded her of something. She strained, but it was like trying to piece together a half remembered dream.

Dimitri was waiting inside the limo and he smiled when she slipped in without noticing him. He was seated across from Lydia and watched her brow furrowing in confusion. The goat's unique talent appeared to be effective on her.

"Let's make this quick Baph," Dimitri said to the goat once he was inside. The limo started to move and Baph grabbed Lydia's hand. She looked up into his eerie slitted eyes expectantly.

_You should give the man across from you the ring. _

Lydia immediately moved to comply. The fingers on her right hand barely brushed over the ring when she jumped as if she had been shocked. "No," she said in a harsh whisper. Dimitri frowned at his partner. They shared a look for a moment and Baph made another attempt.

_You really want to give him the ring. It's such a burden on you. _

Sweat started to breakout on Lydia's forehead as she gasped, "Never." The words rose out of a place deep within her and she was barely aware of uttering them.

Dimitri raised an elegant eyebrow and drummed his fingers on the seat beside him. Minutes passed as he contemplated his next move. "I need her to trust me and keep still," he ordered the goat.

_The man across from you is a trusted friend and this car ride is very relaxing. You are so relaxed you don't want to move at all._

Lydia's head eased back against her head rest and the tension in her posture slowly dissipated. Her hands had been clasped tightly together but now lay lightly in her lap. Dimitri leaned across the space between them, slowly gauging her reaction. Even when the limo went over a small bump in the road her body remained languid.

Carefully lifting her hand from her lap, Dimitri made to pull the ring from her finger. His fingers touched the edge of the silver ring and a violent bolt of energy blasted him back. There was a soft thump as his body slammed into the seat he had previously occupied. His breath came out in ragged gasps as he glared at Lydia, who still sat easily with her eyes unfocused. Baph looked uncertainly between the girl and his boss.

After he felt steadier, Dimitri adjusted himself in his seat and straightened his shirt. He tapped on the small divider between them and the drivers cab. "Stop here," he called to the driver.

* * *

Inside the bar, Beetlejuice started to feel uncomfortable. There was an odd sensation in his head, similar to an itch, which was becoming increasingly persistent. Eventually the feeling drowned out what Jacques was yelling at him, and he shook his head vigorously to try to clear it. That was when he noticed that Lydia was no longer seated at the bar.

"Where's Lyds?" he asked nervously. Jacques stopped yelling and looked at the unoccupied stool.

"She was here just a moment ago. Maybe she went to the ladies room?" Jacques suggested.

Beetlejuice floated over to the bathroom door and knocked. The sensation in his skull was starting to give him a migraine and no one was responding to the knock. He pushed the door open and confirmed that the ladies room was definitely empty. Floating away from the door, his eyes frantically searched the rest of the bar. When he reached Jacques he said simply, "She's not in the bathroom." There was a pop and he appeared at the bartender's side.

"Did you see Lyds?" he asked hurriedly.

"Yea a few minutes ago she went outside with that goat guy," he answered. Jacques had reached them in time to hear Chug's response.

"Goat guy?" Jacques questioned.

Beetlejuice didn't hear the bartender's reply because he instantly transported himself outside of the bar. His eyes frantically searched the streets for any sign of her. "LYDIA!" he yelled. Several ghouls along the sidewalk turned to look at the desperate ghost, but there was no reply from Lydia.

* * *

**A/N: A huge thanks to everyone sticking with my story :) **


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